Oliver
by NotOmnipotent
Summary: One of Mycrofts agents dies, and Mycroft ends up with a young boy until further notice. Will Mycrofts unknown parenting skills shine through or will it turn into a disaster? ((There are always stories of Sherlock rasing a young child but I found out there are none on if Mycroft does))
1. What have I gotten myself into?

Mycroft had been typing another pointless document for another pointless nation that didn't even concern his country at the moment, yet here he was middle of the night, steaming tea next to him when the phone rang. He closed his eyes reaching for the land line in the corner of his desk. His eyes stung quite a lot but Mycroft didn't mind the sting almost welcoming it. "Hello?" He said into the landline, Mycroft frowned listening to the person ramble, normally he would have cut the person off ages ago. "Yes,address?" Mycroft wrote the address hanging up the sleek black land line before shutting his computer and walking out of the office.

Arriving at a the Met lights seemed a bit too much he shut his eyes once more the sting reminding him he was still awake, reaching for his umbrella he got out almost immediately seen by Greg. "Hey, Mycroft here to set your brother off?" Greg said with a small smile yet his whole body language was a bit hunched over and sad. Mycroft gave a dry smile not saying anything, whether the 48 hours of not sleeping or the fact of why he was actually here had caught up to him he could tell.

Greg didn't ask after that he simply opened the door for Mycroft watching him walk into the building. The images were still flashing through his head, vivid, still to realistic to be a memory. Greg walked behind Mycroft a bit before stopping to look down his phone, "Oh Sherlock and John are here, I'll go bring them up. Just head on up" Greg said as Mycroft turned to him nodding before walking to the elevator tapping the button with the end of his umbrella making his way up stairs.

The crime scene was, well a crime scene. Just down the street from the Met. Two dead, shots to the head small caliber yet there were several other bullets on the body's. Shot in the middle of the street shooter on high up building, there were witnesses but they were saying the same thing 'They were just laughing with their boy, then shots were fired..'

Greg walked to the front door before hitting himself, "Mycroft!" He called out but the elevator had already closed.

"Hey Greg" John said with a sad smile, you could never be completely happy at a crime scene even if Sherlock was with you. "Hello John, hey I was wondering while Sherlock looks at the body could you come and see this kid?" Greg said nodding up the building. John looked back Sherlock hadn't followed John even though he told him to follow. "Sure, who is it?" John had a low pit growing in his stomach all of him not wanting to be who he thought it was. "It's, it's the boy's parents from the crime...he hasn't talked, barely eaten. Been here since it happened. Think he is in deep shock but I just wanna make sure he is ok" Greg said sadly. John nodded not wanting to speak the pit in his stomach large and weighing his thoughts down into a pit. Greg nodded walking to the staircase, "The elevator is getting fixed, it has a shotty landing" Greg said taking two steps at a time.

The elevator had an abrupt stop Mycroft stumbled a bit. He huffed as the elevator dinged open. The floor had little to no people on it he frowned his mind going back to the first time he was in here, papers being moved and shuffled around people yelling at others it was an organized chaos from afar.

He blinked a few times coming back to the present. Seeing a young boy with bright blonde hair, sitting in a chair a bright red basket in his lap some chips laying inside. The elevator door closed with an annoying squeak as it shut. The little boy seemed un-phased by the noise, a chip still in his mouth his little hand wrapped around it. Mycroft walked forward a bit wanting the boy to move it was if he was a dummy sitting in a chair. A bit mesmerized by the boy Mycroft set down his umbrella missing the hook completely the umbrella banging on the floor as the metal tip came in contact with the linoleum tile. The blonde haired boy seemed to come out of his trance as he winced dropping the fries in the basket and started to cry in his chair.

Mycroft panicked, it wasn't like there was another person on the floor he could go to for help, Anthea was still at the Diogenes club. He bit his lip bending down to pick up his fallen umbrella, as he slowly made his way towards the boy, the blondes head whip towards his, he yelped pushing himself off the chair onto the floor the basket of fries coming down with him, he immediately ran behind a desk where the unknown man couldn't see him.

 _Drop the act Mycroft._ His mind tutted, the boy wouldn't come out if he looked like a menacing man in a impeccable suit with an umbrella in his hand. He immediately divested his over coat, followed by his waist coat he stripped down his many layers setting the suit on a chair, he hesitated a bit not wanting to scare the boy more than he had. He could hear a sniffle every ten seconds or so. He took a breath setting down his umbrella before taking a step towards the desk, he bent down trying to soften his voice the best he could. "I am sorry" He said one knee on the ground, still a good distance away from the desk, he waited a moment hearing the boy shuffle around, he counted 15 seconds. The boy hiccuped peering his head around the desk. "Hello, my name is-" Mycroft didn't finish the blonde bolted from underneath the desk running towards his his eyes getting watery one more as he tried to hug Mycroft as he bent down. The small hands had a tight grip on Mycroft's pants as a small whimpery cry could be heard from the boy. "Can I pick you up?" Mycroft knew his shirt and pants would be covered in lord knows what, getting over the disgust fairly quickly he could feel the boy nod against his knee. Mycroft picked him up only to see Greg and John doing there best to savor the rare moment.

They had been having a small conversation, both trying to make their hearts hurt a little less at the fact that a young boy had just lost his parents when they heard a scream. They stopped exchanging glances before booking it up the stairs to Greg's floor. Both out of breath they rounded the corner both in shock. Mycroft, stripping down his suit of armor slowly. John put his hand out as Greg tried to walk into room. They exchanged silent glances 'What if' Greg's eyes read. John just smiled hearing Mycroft talk to the young boy. Greg nodded believing in John...in Mycroft. "Wow…" Greg said quietly. For him he had only see the boy zoned out a motionless, yet he, he looked happy with Mycroft for some reason.

Mycroft turned around to find Greg and John smiling trying to fan girl quietly to each other both trying to savor the moment. John could have squealed at the cuteness of it all, the British government picking up a crying child making sure the boy felt safe instead of his normal cold demeanor.

Mycroft lifted the boy up a bit higher as the boy seemed to get heavier as he trusted the man more. The boy rested his head in the crook of Mycroft's neck, 'Not a word' he breathed to them not actually speaking. The men both nodded in unison making there way back down the stairs as Mycroft walked to the elevator, picking up his umbrella he pressed the bottom with the metal tip watching the small down button illuminate in an ugly orange color. The elevator opened Mycroft stepped in watching the door close only moments later. 'What have I gotten myself into?' Mycroft thought feeling the elevator start to move down the boy's heart beat almost against his own. He let out a long sigh looking down at the boy who seemed to be sleeping on him, his lip tugged up his heart feeling odd and a bit protective of the little human in his arms but he immediately shook it off. He felt the boy shift a bit mumbling something incoherent to Mycroft's ear, so Mycroft spoke up, "Is this an adequate position for you to be in or shall I set you down?" The boy lifted his head his eyes widen and uncomprehending of what the man said. "No-" he yawned rubbing his eyes, "No, un-du-stand" The boy blinked a few times his body slowly walking up yet you could tell he was fighting off sleep. Mycroft, a bit applauded by the boys bad vocabulary skills blinked back, 'How simple must I be?' He thought huffing to himself. "Shoulder?" he moved it bit watching the boys reaction,. "Or….the ground?" he tapped his foot fully aware they were still in the elevator. "Sho-Der?" The boy pushed back a bit to get a better look at the man's shoulder tapping it a few times as if he had never seen one before. Mycroft was getting queasy, he didn't think he had this much human contact in a long time. Mycroft could tell the boy was trying to calculate what to do, "Down please" he said making a light fist tapping Mycroft's chest. He let out a shaky breath of relief as he set the boy down onto the elevator floor. The boy walked over to the buttons watching him click each one, 'Good lord this is going to be a long elevator ride..' Mycroft shook his head watching the boy turn around.

"Want papa?" the boy said sadly, Mycroft could tell the boy knew his parents were dead but he could still crave for their revival.

"Your parents are dead, and there is nothing to bring them back, ahead your tears now. You will grow up with some relative and have issues trusting people your whole life as you lost your parents at such a young age. It will also be hard for you to make friends and most likely get married for you will have a very hard time trusting people won't leave." Mycroft was cold and a bit heartless but he would never say that to the young boy for one he wouldn't even comprehend what he was saying and it wasn't, nice. 'What is wrong with me' Mycroft thought watching the boy patiently wait for a repose.

"Come here," Mycroft said gently bending down to pick the boy up once more becoming a human chair once again. He tried a few different positions, for they had time, because it soooo much fun to stop at every floor. Not being able to come up with a way to hold the boy he was running out of options, his arm acted as the seat and the boy wrapped his hand around Mycroft's neck.

"Embarrassing" He muttered underneath his breath. He moved the boy around a bit so his head was once again in the crook of his neck. "Embarrassing but better" Mycroft said finally reaching the second to last floor before they could get out. "Eb-arse-in" The boy repeated looking up at the man. "No no don't say that" Mycroft shook his head slightly mortified.

The boy giggled a bit, "Eb-arse-in!" He said with a small smile looking at the man who seemed to wear the same smile as him. Mycroft shook his head. "Embarrassing" The boy blinked. "Em-barasn" The boy tried out once more. "Embarrassing" Mycroft said once more. "Embassing" The boy repeated. "No no, don't skip letters you can pronounce, em- bar-ass-ing" he said breaking the word apart for the boy. "Em...barass..ing" the boy said looking a bit suprised as he said the word. Mycroft nodded, "Good job." He said watching the boy lite up. Mycroft gained a small boost of confidence being able to teach the boy a new word in such a small amount of time. The elevator finally reached the ground floor, Greg and John talking to each other no doubt wondering why the elevator took so long.

The boy looked at the two new people, he rubbed his eyes a bit forcing his body to stay awake a while longer. "Down?" He said curiously as if Mycroft wouldn't let him down. 'Please do make up your mind' Mycroft thought setting the boy down.

The boy stayed by Mycroft for a moment as if deciding how far he could go from the man, he made his way over to John. John smiled bending down not wanting to tower over the young boy. He jumped back a bit looking at Mycroft with wide eyes. 'Why is he looking at me' Mycroft blinked nodding watching the boy interact with John. 'What's his name?' Mycroft narrowed his eyes accessing his own mind palace for his agents. The boy said something to knock Mycroft out of his mind palace.

"Your short-" The boy got cut off by a sneeze he wrinkled his nose a bit stunned by the sudden sneeze. John's mouth was hanging open. Greg didn't even try and cover up his laughter doubling over wheezing from the boys comment. Mycroft more discreetly covered his laughter up with a cough and a tap of his umbrella against the ground. "-Hair papas color" The boy finished wiping his nose on his t-shirt while Mycroft shivered thinking of all the unhygienic things a child could do. Everyone froze, John gave a small smile bending down on one knee letting the boy pat his hair a few times before the boy ran behind Mycroft. Greg puffed out his lower lip for a moment before taking suit of bending down. The boy immediately looked up to Mycroft, "Why are you asking me for permission?" Mycroft said huffing not realizing the role he was falling into for the boy. John cleared his throat, Mycroft's head whipped toward him seeing a stern gaze. "Yes go, don't ask next time" Mycroft said down to the boy who stood by him for a moment longer than Mycroft thought necessary before making his way over to Greg. "Hello" Greg said tilting his head a bit with a goofy grin on his face, the boy giggled. "Wanna hear a joke!" Greg said said sitting down on the floor fully smile still present. The boy narrowed his eyes obviously not fully understanding what a 'joke' was but he nodded curiosity taking over. "Why did the chicken cross the road?" The boy looked more than confused while John groaned at the joke Greg chose. "To get to the other side" Greg watched the boy register the entire thing a smile blooming on his face, he laughed before trying to repeat, "Chicken cross road? Other side!" He laughed a bit more and Mycroft watched in awe as Greg made the boy laugh, a hint of jealousy flaring up in him but he immediately pushed it down knowing better than to be taking over by such a dull emotion.

Sherlock walked in, well he pushed open both doors a scowl ridden on his face, his coat whipping up in the short gust of wind he had created from opening the door. The boy scrambled to get behind Mycroft, he picked him up automatically without even really thinking about it. "John you won't-" He stopped talking a smile forming before he laughed at the notion of his brother picking up a small child. The boy dug his head into Mycroft's neck whimpering a bit, "Sherlock you will stop this instant you are scaring him" Mycroft growled out. Sherlock stopped laughing his face going cold, "Oh, I am the scary one" Sherlock rolled his eyes huffing, "Yes," John chipped in, "You are" John said huffing standing up along with Greg. Sherlock's attitude changed a bit but not by much. "John about the m-" He stepped back getting not one not two but three murderous glares, he rolled his eyes. "Ya well it's all," He pointed at Mycroft. "You" Sherlock turned around sharply his coat giving a dramatic flip as he waltzed out, John gave them both an apologetic look running after the mad man.

"Well, I am going to have my team run a check for his family-" Mycroft acted on an unknown feeling as he interrupted Greg mid sentence. "No" He said quickly. "No?" Greg replied confused before a small smirk appeared on his face, "No offence Mycroft but I don't think you could deal with a two to three year old for more than-" Mycroft cut Greg off once more. "Yes," His breath hitched. "You are right, it was foolish of me,please just take him" Mycroft said looking down at the boy who had fallen asleep on him. "Naw….he looks peaceful" Greg said reaching into his pocket with a sly smile. Mycroft could almost hear the smile looking up, "Gregory?" _Snap._ "Gregory you will delete that photo immediately or I will personally ship you off to some." _Snap. Snap._ "Gregory" Mycroft said impatiently. " ! At least now i have some blackmail on ya" He winked laughing evill waking the boy up. Mycroft heard the small wince looking down his hand came up to rub small circles on the boys back hearing his breath even out almost instantly. _Snap._ "Gregory Richard Lestrade! If you snap one more picture your life will be over" Mycroft hissed out quietly not wanting to walk the boy, "S'op fightn" The boy mumbled into Mycroft's neck. "Take him home, i'll see where the kiddo lives, until then" Greg said waving bye leaving the building. "That's hardly protocol Gregory" Mycroft said quickly taking a step forward. "Is now" Greg closed the door with a quick wink before heading off. Mycroft huffed looking down to find bright green eyes looking at him, "i'm sleepy" He said looking at the man curious about his name. Mycroft could read the boys reactions like a book, it was almost too easy to the point of thinking back to when Sherlock lied and Mycroft actually for some reason believed him. "Mycroft Holmes" He supplied the boy who yawned letting his head rest on Mycroft's shoulder. "Oliver…" The boy said before becoming silent.

Mycroft closed his eyes for a moment. His inner clock telling him it was 2:30 am. Huffing he walked outside a sleek black car waiting, he got in with a struggle not wanting to set Oliver down but having some trouble with his coordination trying to get them both situated in the now small seat. "Where are we going sir?" Anthea for once was not looking at her phone but the child in Mycroft's arms. "Home" He said finally relaxing into the seat rubbing the boy's back lightly. She nodded leaning forward to tell the driver,feeling the car move they set off to his home.


	2. Italian Food

His eyes blinked open, the green orbs looking around as his body stretched itself out underneath the warm comfort of the bed. Oliver's head felt fuzzy, like a puzzle had broken apart in his head. His mind slowly piecing things together. Checking his surrounding he knew he was in a bedroom. Nodding to himself he pushed the covers down his body bunching the corner of the comforter at his feet, it was then Oliver realized just how big the bed was. It was huge! His mind telling him he could just live on the cozy bed for the rest of his life. Giggling at the thought he stood up on the bed taking a few wobbly steps trying to balance himself out he watched the comforter on the other side of the bed rise and fall. "Sleepy," he said quietly before he turned around trying to figure out how to get off the bed.

He was to scared of going backwards guessing his feet wouldn't touch the ground. As he thought he did a small jump his bottom landing on the bed his feet slightly up into the air. His eyes widening as he realized he was in trouble, the bed bounced him back up his arms and legs failing momentarily as he flew through the air and landed on the floor with a loud short "AH!" Oliver's body hit the floor like a bag of potatoes, making a loud thump.

Mycroft knew he was sleeping, but he didn't realize how deep he was sleeping. His body felt like it weighed tons. Which should be the opposite because he was on a . The thump on the floor made him bolt up his first thought was that someone got shot. Which was not the case, he turned over on his bed seeing the other side empty the pieces in his mind coming together. Throwing the covers to the vacant side he got up walking around the bed seeing the boy lying stunned on the floor.

"Are you hurt?" He said quickly bending down to inspecting the damage.

Oliver blinked not really knowing what happened so he just said what he thought. "Bed is bouncing." he said looking up at the male.

Bouncy.

"Are you feeling well?" He said trying again seeing as the boy didn't really answer his question the first time. This time the boy nodded shifting into a sitting position rubbing his head after a moment he frowned. "Let me see your head," he crouched down on the floor his knees bent out putting the weight on the front of his toes as he leaned forward lifting the boy's hand off to see a good sized red bump starting to form.

Brilliant, day one and the boy could have a concussion.

"How many fingers am I holding up," He said raising four fingers ready to see if he needed to take the boy in. Oliver looked down at his own hands for a moment his little fingers moving up and down as his mind gave him a few numbers.

"Five…..four?" He held up five fingers to Mycroft's four realizing they didn't match he retracted his statement dropping a finger. He didn't give Mycroft a chance to respond as he spoke once more, "Hung-EEE" He said hiccuping as he spoke, Oliver giggled hiccuping once more.

They ended up in Mycroft's kitchen, he sat the boy down in a chair before taking a seat across from him. Mycroft sat in the silence of the kitchen as he stared at the boy. Oliver deadpanned back, to which Mycroft furrowed his brow, to which Oliver copied. Mycroft's eyebrow raised up at the boys odd reactions. Oliver followed suit a small smile on his face as he tried to raise an eyebrow having some trouble moving just one both went up.

Oh.

Mycroft realized he was being copied, maybe it had something to do with the dead silence? He took a breath in before talking, "Would you care for something to eat?" Mycroft didn't know how well the boy actually spoke. He knew the boy was a fast learner but he didn't know much else. Mycroft could only guess at what kids ate, surely he wouldn't lead the boy down the same path as Mycroft did when he was a child. He shivered a bit just thinking about it.

Shutting his eyes momentarily, he did a brief search in his mind palace for things kids eat but it came up barren, just like his love life. Maybe he should have bought a book on parenting? Who was he kidding, that information would become useless when the boy went back in a few days anyways then he would have to go through all of the trouble to delete it.

Mycroft zoned out must have missed the boy response. "Would you care for something to eat?" Mycroft said once more finding it odd as he repeated himself once more.

Oliver frowned the man had already asked him that question but he shrugged in response as he did before. Mycroft caught the shrug this time, "Shall I give you some options?"

Kids enjoy questions right?

The boy shrugged.

Indecisive more like…

" You can choose from, roasted fish," the boys face scrunched up in disgust. "Soup," the boy looked as if Mycroft was giving him a punishment. "Fine then,what do you want if my food choices are abhorrible." He said shaking his head thinking the options were splendid.

The boy shrugged and Mycroft let out a sigh.

Mycroft thought of what he wouldn't eat if he were on a diet. " Pasta and Bread" No he couldn't say that...or could he? It did sound quite scrumptious, hmm and paired with the right wine….

Focus!

" Do you want," Oliver readied his face for more bad food. " Pasta, Pizza or...Lasagna."

Italian food sounded delicious .

Mycroft's stomach rumbled in response. His mind already going through his wine selection. Chardonnay or White?

Oliver laughed " What's la-non-ya" The boy said stirring in his seat, his eyes wide as he was intrigued by the new food.

"It's.."

Keep it simple

" Like a cake,but with pasta,cheese and sauce," Mycroft shivers at the simplicity of his sentence. But Oliver seemed all to excited "Pasta Cake!" He stayed in his chair but he looked like he was going to burst from excitement any moment.

Oh lord. "How about we use turkey meat instead of beef, more health." trying to make this meal as light as possible realizing he had just broken his diet he had worked so hard on.

"Your not fat?" Oliver tilted his head looking up at him. Mycroft's jaw dropped but he recovered quickly regaining his composure. " I am on a diet" he turned his head up...to a 3 year old. " I'm not" Oliver said looking confused but he was smiling,Mycroft jaw dropped once again slightly at the boys responds he tried to cover it but Oliver must have noticed. " Its fine you use turkey" he patted Mycroft's leg and walked away. A three year old...did he just..no. Young kids were all about themselves..and here this boy was caring more about my preference than his own . " Screw it" Mycroft pulled the beef out of the fridge and got to work

The smell of the lasagna cooking drew the boy back into the kitchen. "Have some now" Oliver said taking a deep breath of the thick smell of lasagna. Manners , Mycroft tutted. "If you ask correctly. " Have some now, please" Mycroft shook his head. "May I please have some lasagna?" He said closing his eyes at the end.

Set the example and..

"No, it's not done" Oliver said having walked over to the oven looking inside, he smiled looking over his shoulder at Mycroft. Mycroft gave a little glare at the boy.

How could he be so witty? Surely he wouldn't have adopted my traits so fast

"I'm sorry" Oliver looked down. Mycroft lessened his glare, the glare that could make diplomats go white. "You're forgiven, will you set the table" Mycroft opened the oven to see how the lasagna was coming along, it was almost done.

Oliver nodded looking around at the cupboards wondering how he should get up. Walking over he grabbed a chair dragging it across the wood surprised when it didn't make a sound he pushed it up against cabinets below. Climbing onto the chair he opened the cupboard door before climbing up all the way feeling a bit unstable but he kept going. Reaching up he grabbed a plate setting it in one hand he reached for the other.

When he turned back around he found Oliver on top of the counter top, reaching into the cupboard for some plates. Mycroft panicked realizing the boy could seriously get hurt.

"No, get down!" he said his voice full of panic and worry as he dropped what he was doing wanting to be over by Oliver to make sure…

Oliver froze up with a plate in his hand losing balance on the counter top he fell backward. Mycroft lunged for the child catching him just in time.

Thank god. " Are you-"

Mycroft was cut off by Oliver who started crying. The plates was off to the right somewhere, broken. Mycroft fine china, but he could care less about a plate in this moment. Mycroft moved up a bit from the floor putting his back against the wall. Oliver was crying gripping on to his shirt. "Oliver it's ok" Mycroft patted the boy's back as he wept. Mycroft hit himself internally.

He is 4! How could he have reached the cupboard!

Mycroft pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead, Oliver breathing was heavy and erratic but it stopped soon enough. His little body pressed against Mycroft's chest. Oliver looked up his tear stained eyes wide as he spoke, "Done now?" he said through his sniffles. "Yes,now go wash up" Mycroft said rubbing small circles into the boy's back. Oliver wined a bit but a simple glare his way made him run up the stairs so fast that Mycroft just smiled.


	3. Creating Fears

"Wash up," The young boy said popping is 'p' as he spoke as he padded up the stairs his feet moving slowly yet quickly up the stairs. Checking a few doors one being locked he found the bathroom.

The young blonde nodded looking around the large bathroom. Walking past the sink his eyes on the large tub that sat in the corner of the room. Scratching his head he opened his mouth talking to himself, "Where the water...make it? No work though. I get, what his name? How I get water?" Oliver spoke out loud to himself trying to figure out the tub.

Getting inside the tub was another thing, he looked inside the tub dry swallowing looking at the size and depth. Taking a few moments realizing he was just making a big thing out of nothing. Hitting his cheeks with both hands as if to pump himself up he slowly climbed into the tub backwards, gripping onto the edge of the tub. His arms were getting weak. Oliver didn't realize he had pulled up his legs so he was just dangling over the side. Letting his arms go guessing it wasn't that far he barely fell a few inches his legs hitting the tub floor. "Good!" He said happily standing up using his hands to balance himself as he stood up. There were only three levers, at least that's what Oliver called them. His small face scrunched up trying his luck with the left one first. He didn't have enough strength to pull it forward. He took a step forward stepping down on the plug of the tub closing it and yanked hard on the lever once more water started coming out.

He stepped back satisfied. He reached for the middle lever pulling it hard thinking he would need to but it came out stumbled back a bit wondering what was going to happen seeing as he could hear the water moving up the wall he looked up. He screeched quite loudly when water shot out from above him. Oliver clothes became soaked instantly as he tried to turn it off. Slightly in panic he couldn't push it back in place.

"Push." he said his voice worried the lever went back up and the water above stopped, a few drops hitting his head. He reached up rubbing his wet hair for a moment his eyes up as he looked at the shower nozzle he glared at it sticking out his tongue.

All the meanwhile the water was slowly working its way past the boy's knees increasing at a fast rate. He pushed the lever all the way up seeing as water droplets were still hitting his head, "Never pull again," Oliver shook his head his eyes going down and widening.

He felt like he was in the middle of an ocean, he was panicking.

"No swim" He got out of his mouth. The water was also freezing considering he only twisted the cold water. "Get out now" He looked at the edge of the tub. Gripping it with his hands. He moved over slowly, slipping on the slick tub floor he fell in fully his entire body falling into the frosty water.


	4. Loophole

Mycroft grabbed the broom once he saw the young boy disappear up the stairs. Sweeping up his plates he couldn't help but wince at his broken fine china. From china. Hand made. Hand painted. The male made a mental note to buy some cheap plates for the boy so he would still have some plates by the end of the day.

Dumping the contents in the trash he closed the dark cherry wood door before washing his hands, humming to himself his mind drifted away from the boy thinking of his job and the meeting he had tomorrow along with giving his assistant a raise. Again. Taking a short breath as he wiped his hands off on the dish towel that rested neatly on the oven door, he set the table for two. His cheapest plates for the record. Walking over to his fridge he pulled out a bottle of red wine thinking he deserved it, and it was a good pairing with the food.

Walking over to the oven he pulled out the lasagna placing it neatly on the middle of the table. On a cooling rack of course, he would not burn his table. Mycroft shook his head looking up stairs. "How can it possibly take more than three minutes to wash and dry your hands? Maybe he can't reach the sink." Mycroft sighed, glancing back at the meal knowing the 'pasta cake' had to cool off before he cut it open. Let alone feeding it to the child.

He paused, "Heaven forbid, I will not be raising a fork up to the boy's mouth!" He said his voice almost cracking as memories of his mother feeding Sherlock in the same way. The grimace on his face only grew before he realized Oliver was still very much upstairs.

Mycroft could have just let the boy be.

'Learn how to do simple on your own Mycroft or you will never be able to do them yourself' His father's words echoed through his head. He scoffed thinking of Sherlock and his inability to do the simplest things. Oh. He had a list somewhere in his office just to remind himself of all the things he could do and Sherlock could not. Little bit of a power trip but Mycroft called it, 'Sibling rivalry.'

Yet something drew him up the staircase, almost like an invisible string pulling him towards an unknown to head up the staircase when he heard a scream. Mycroft paused before quickening his pace to the powder room.

Mycroft reached the bathroom, pulling open the door, his heart skipping a beat without his consent. The young boy was drowning right in front of his eyes, he could just see how hard Oliver struggled to get to the surface. The British government bolted towards the tub, his long legs carrying him much faster than he thought, pushing his hands into the icy tundra of the water he lifted the boy out the first words coming out of his mouth were full of an unknown anger. "Oliver what were you thinking! I did not-" Mycroft's breath caught hearing the boy gagging for air, trying to cry and breath and get the water out of his lungs all at the same time. All the while death gripping his savoir's shirt as if his life depended on it.

Oliver was mortified, he had tried to keep his mouth closed but he swallowed way too much water as he struggled around in the tub. He couldn't have been more happy as he felt the freezing water leave his body as he was pulled out of the tub. Choking on the water in his system he could feel a light yet heavy hand on his back coaxing the water out of his body.

"Here, just let me," Mycroft needed to turn of the water, it was about to overflow. Mycroft made the mistake of taking another step forward.

The sheer amount of water on the floor was Mycroft's downfall. Pun intended. Having took that extra step forward in non grip, slick shoes placed him into the same freezing tundra Oliver was in just moments before. Hearing the blood curdling scream right next to his ear was something he would never forget, the male was so sure in that very moment he would never be able to hear again. Mycroft got out of the tub as quickly as he could having to actually pull his legs into the water, unable to use his arms which held the wailing child. Standing up trying to let a good amount of water drain off of him before he stepped out.

Getting out of the tub fully, young Oliver was scream crying as Mycroft tried and failed to block out the noise as he grabbed a towel. Correction, three towels wrapping it around the boy making sure he was fully covered. Mycroft sunk to the bathroom floor almost too stunned to move as the boy just let out an endless stream of tears crying, his small body shaking from fear. Rubbing small circles into the boy back Mycroft painstakingly counted the minutes, counting about twenty five minutes until the boy calmed down almost all the way, then by thirty minutes he was silent. His small arms loosely around Mycroft's neck, the towel covering his head a bit soaking up the leftover water in his hair. "It's ok." Mycroft finally spoke up after all this time in the boys scream crying. He had been dead silent the entire time just holding the boy lightly as he cried. It was not his area to give comfort and if he did it would have sounded like 'Your just like Sherlock'. Which wouldn't have helped either of them to hear or say for that matter. So he stayed quiet.

The male had never had something like this happen to him, yet as he looked down at the sleeping boy he could feel an obligation. Oh no, not to the boy. Ha! Sentiment! No, but to his agents. The boy's parents. Yes, no sentiment in that. A simple loop hole to block out any sentiment.

 _I mustn't let this boy down then._

Mycroft let his eyes drift close, crisis averted. He fell asleep on the bathroom floor, propped up against the wall with Oliver sitting in his lap his head pushed into the crook of the British government's neck.


End file.
